Search

It’s moments like those that make it incredibly difficult for me to resist the urge to bash my skull in with a stapler. In fact, I had a variety of taxing conversations yesterday that featured various displays of ignorance and stupidity. Throughout them all I surveyed the office supplies on my desk and daydreamed about how to turn them into lethal weapons of self-destruction.

When I have to say “T as in ‘Tango, A as in Alpha” 3 times and someone still manages to send an email to “T as in Tango, K as in Kilo”, I am fantasizing of a death by pushpin acupuncture. When I answer the phone with my name and department and the immediate question on the other line is what my name is and what department they have reached, I am drowning in a tub of ink, with a letter-opener stabbed into my heart. And when I have to play a voicemail 8 times to catch the number at the very, very end, I am testing man’s ability to fly by jumping off the roof with wings made out of post-it notes.

I’m having a difficult time managing my work anger.

I’ve considered a multitude of coping mechanisms. For example, I could install a program on my computer with random pop-up pictures of adorable baby animals. Because nothing brings me down from the rage I feel when someone emails me and then immediately calls me like a bowl of baby kittens.

But in the middle of my thought, a delivery guy came in with a bouquet from Edible Arrangements. I’ve always wanted to try Edible Arrangements (a bouquet made out of edibles – in this case, chocolate-covered fruit) and I’ve always always wanted to get something awesome in the mail at work. I assumed it was for my boss, but this time the peasant prevailed and I laid claim to the booty.

It was my loyal reader from this past weekend’s Battle of Bull Run, wishing me a Happy Lollipop Tuesday and thanking me for joining her. And suddenly all my anger disappeared. It had been replaced by chocolate covered apple wedges and grape skewers. I felt like a rock star. A blog star, if you will. And my problems were solved. I don’t need to injure myself with office supplies or have a baby goat screensaver. I just need daily gift deliveries at my place of work. Preferably chocolate.

This should make you smile…yesterday my sister, who works for a big name insurance company as an executive assistant got this response to her email notifying them of some upcoming agent training: (I cut and pasted this, all caps is verbatim)

For future office anger management, might I suggest you tone down the self-destruction thoughts? After all, you’re not the problem: the dolts around you are. Try thinking of inventive ways to hurt THEM.